Adorable: My Pet Rat Lives the Life of a French Chef!
Lately, reasons to smile seem few and far in between. Our government seems to be shifting rapidly, climate change becomes more evident daily, and more bad news just keeps coming.
But just because our world is full of problems doesn’t mean all the fun and cute is gone!
So that’s why I’ve bought a pet rat and made it always wear a chef’s hat, and have recreated the aesthetic of a traditional French restaurant for the rat to inhabit.
After I purchased the rat, I gave it a miniature chef’s hat, which it will wear for the rest of its life. It was uncomfortable at first, but the rat will never not wear the chef’s hat until it dies.
I know. So. Freaking. Cute.
I have made sure that, upon arriving to its cage, it was immersed in a stunning replica of a bustling French restaurant. No other rats inhabit the restaurant. Instead, I have made rat-sized dolls out of woodchips and soggy paper. And while I allow the rat to interact with the rat-sized dolls, its main focus must be to run the French restaurant that I have built around it.
Yep. Dawwww Overload.
I have positioned Bluetooth speakers on opposite ends of the restaurant-cage, playing a continuous loop of French café-inspired music overlaid with muffled talking and the clanking of silver wear. This furthers the illusion that the rat is the owner of a successful French restaurant.
The rat does not have a name, and its gender is unknown. All that matters is the rat’s grueling schedule and its dedication to running the best restaurant in Paris. I have had an extreme miniature copy of Julia Child’s The Art of French Cooking custom-made and, if the rat requires them, very tiny glasses. The rat studies until migraines make it impossible.
Just like in the movie!
When the restaurant closes and the rat has planned the next day’s menu, I allot an hour of rest before it must wake up to go to the farmer’s market. To be clear, at this point each day, the Bluetooth speakers play ASMR recordings to comfort the fatigued rat.
For recreation, each Saturday afternoon between the lunch and dinner shifts, the rat has a twenty-minute “date” with one of the dolls, who is called Agathe. The rat and Agathe may do whatever they please, but when the timer hits twenty minutes, it is back to work for the rat.
Should the rat ever become unhappy with these arrangements, it is free to leave, but the restaurant will be stripped of its Michelin stars. Even if it leaves the fake restaurant, the rat must still wear the chef’s hat until it is dead. This way, other homeless rats will immediately know that the rat is a quitter, and could not handle the intense life of a French chef.
Here’s hoping my adorable rat and I put a smile on your face!